


Storms and Saints

by ChameleonCircuit



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, M/M, Pining, starisi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 18:19:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15125210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChameleonCircuit/pseuds/ChameleonCircuit
Summary: It didn’t matter how many times they sat together, drank together, laughed with each other, even flirted with each other, Peter always felt he never quite knew where they stood. It was as though they were hovering above an invisible line, neither quite sure which side they should stay on.





	Storms and Saints

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keraunoscopia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keraunoscopia/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY KERAUNOSCOPIA!! I hope you enjoy your gift!
> 
> Thanks as always to tobeconspicuous for acting as beta x

It felt like cause enough for celebration, having put two rapists behind bars after a long and gruelling trial with an outcome that seemed to waver with each newly introduced piece of evidence.

He’d sat at Forlini’s for two drinks, pouring over paperwork for an upcoming case while desperately hoping that Sonny Carisi would walk through the doors and join him. He knew it was pathetic, knew he could just pick up the phone and see if the detective was free, but his nerves always got the better of him.

It didn’t matter how many times they sat together, drank together, laughed with each other, even flirted with each other, Peter always felt he never quite knew where they stood. It was as though they were hovering above an invisible line, neither quite sure which side they should stay on.

He sighed, downing the last of his drink before gathering his things to head home. Sonny wasn’t going to show, and he was too much of a coward to ask him to.

It felt as though he had only been home a couple of minutes, just long enough to change into something comfortable, when there was a loud, urgent banging on his door setting the dog two doors down into a frenzy.

He had expected a neighbor, or someone who had the wrong door, or possibly even Olivia, who had a habit of showing up when he least expected, and never with good news. What he hadn’t been expecting was Sonny, tie loose around his neck, shirt half-untucked, top few buttons undone, and his hair hanging across his forehead, falling from its usual gelled coif. It looked like he’d been crying, but Peter wasn’t sure.

Wordlessly, Peter stepped aside, letting Sonny into his apartment. Sonny flinched just a little at the sound of the door latching, and the sight of it pulled at Peter’s heart unexpectedly. He’d seen Sonny hurt, battered, with guilt eating away at him, but he’d never seen Sonny quite like this. He looked an absolute wreck.

Sonny ran a shaky hand through his hair, staring at Peter with wide eyes like he didn’t quite know what he was doing or where he was. Cautiously, Peter stepped forward, placing his hand on Sonny’s shoulder to lead him into the living room. The moment he made contact Sonny had his arms around Peter, clinging to him for dear life as he buried his face in Peter’s neck, breath hot and shaky against his skin.

Peter didn’t want to break the moment, didn’t want to ruin whatever reprieve Sonny was taking from this, so he remained completely still aside from his hand rubbing up and down Sonny’s back, at a loss for what to do.

Eventually, Sonny pulled back, eyes dry but red-rimmed. “I didn’t wanna be alone.”

“You don’t have to be,” Peter whispered, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

“I should go.” Sonny turned towards the door, but Peter grabbed hold of his hand before he could think better of it, stopping him in his tracks.

Sonny stared at Peter’s hand before slowly raking his eyes up his arm, all the way up to his face, expression unreadable.

He felt his stomach flip, uncertainty filling him up, even as the words tumbled from his lips. “You can stay.”

Sonny stared at him, unblinking, face completely blank, before he nodded, just a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Keeping a hold of his hand, Peter led Sonny through to his bedroom, letting go only to fish out a spare t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, offering them to Sonny wordlessly.

He turned his back as Sonny got changed, and was shocked to feel Sonny’s hand on his back when he was done. When Peter turned around, the child-like look of uncertainty on Sonny’s face made his heart ache. They didn’t exchange a single word. Peter just pulled back the covers and climbed into bed, tugging Sonny in alongside him, holding him close.

They were both tense for a few moments, and Peter wondered if he’d crossed a line, if he should have set Sonny up on the lounge instead. But then he felt Sonny relax into him, and he felt his own body relax with it, melting into one another, holding each other impossibly close.

* * *

It became their routine, somehow. They never discussed it, never pre-organized anything, but when Sonny was in a bad way he would come directly to Peter. He came to learn fairly quickly that Sonny was terrible at talking about how he felt. He could never seem to get the words out, and the more he tried the more agitated and upset he became. Sonny would show up, sometimes already changed if he’d made it home first, sometimes still in his work uniform, and Peter would let him in, would draw him close, and they would go to bed together. Not to fuck, not even to kiss. Just to be held.

Peter wondered sometimes if he should mind, if he should feel as though Sonny was using him, but for some reason, he didn’t. He didn’t want Sonny to stop coming, didn’t want Sonny to think he wasn’t there for him unequivocally. He just wanted to be there for him in more ways than this.

He wanted to kiss Sonny when something went well, wanted to fall asleep next to a smiling Sonny, a happy Sonny, once in a while. He wanted to be there for everything, not just the moments that were too hard to talk about.

But he could never dream of turning Sonny away, even when things were hard for him, too. Somehow, having Sonny in his arms made everything else disappear.

* * *

Peter’s fingers hovered across Sonny’s name in his contacts as he sipped from his drink, paperwork entirely abandoned in favor of wishing his best friend, his  _only_ friend, was here beside him, enjoying a drink with him.

“No need to call,” a familiar Staten Island accent sounded behind him, causing Peter to jump, hurrying to close his phone.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Peter said with a smile, turning to face Sonny, willing his heart to slow down just a little.

“Must be psychically linked,” he teased with a grin, draping his suit jacket over the back of the chair next to Peter before sitting down, entire body angled towards Peter.

His eyes were bright, shining in the light from above the bar, and there was a light flush on his cheeks, emphasized by the dimples created by his wide grin.

“You’re drunk,” he laughed, unable to resist the grin creeping onto his own face.

Sonny flagged down the bartender, ordering a beer, before turning back to Peter. “Maybe a little. Blame Amanda. You could’ve come, you know.”

Peter shook his head, huffing out a small laugh. “I’m not so sure.”

“You’re one of us,” Sonny insisted, nodding his head toward the bartender as his drink was placed beside him.

Peter didn’t respond, didn’t really need to. He didn’t care if the rest of the squad didn’t much like him. He only cared if Sonny liked him, a thought which made him feel like an awkward teenager vying for the attention of the popular kid in school.

“Congratulations on your break in the case,” Peter said with a soft smile, gathering the papers in front of him. He waggled them in front of Sonny before sliding them into his bag. “You’ve given me a solid case. I’d be amazed if it even went to trial.”

“Just too good,” Sonny said with a wink, leaning in a little closer.

Peter laughed, shaking his head. He liked Sonny like this, happy, carefree, smile so bright it could light up the sky. He wished it could be this Sonny that came to his apartment, this Sonny he held in his arms at night. His stomach flipped at the thought, and he turned, focussing his attention on his drink while he tried to push the irrational jealous feeling creeping out from the depths of his mind.

When he looked back up Sonny’s face was right in front of his, smile gone, replaced by something Peter couldn’t read. He felt himself leaning in, like a gravitational pull. Before he could even register what was happening, Sonny’s lips crashed against his, a little forceful, a little sloppy and entirely unexpected.

He felt himself freeze completely, brain battling between wanting this and feeling that somehow this was wrong. They’d never kissed before. There’d been so many times where he’d thought that maybe, if he just leaned in a little more, if he angled his head just so, then their lips would slot together perfectly. Sonny always seemed to sit too close after a drink or two, offering small touches, so close he could usually feel Sonny’s breath ghosting across his face, making his heart ache with want.

Before he could say to hell with what’s right, before he could cup Sonny’s head and pull him in closer, Sonny was pulling away, eyes wide as he scrambled to slide off the chair, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.

“Uh, sorry, I shouldn’t have...um. Sorry. I, um--”

“Don’t go,” Peter pleaded, surprised at how desperate he sounded as he grabbed Sonny’s wrist in his hand, stopping him as he reached for his jacket. “Please.”

Slowly, without breaking contact, Sonny sat back down again, eyes still wide, expression wary.

“Do it again,” Peter whispered, heart hammering against his ribcage. “Now that I have some warning.

Relief broke out across Sonny’s face as he let out a breathless laugh. He reached out, brushing his thumb across Peter’s lips before cupping his jaw, expression so soft and tender it caused his breath to catch in his throat. Sonny tilted his head a little, leaning in cautiously this time, but Peter met him halfway, eager and a little desperate.

As their lips met, Peter felt a warmth spread throughout his entire body, fingers tingling as he ran them into the back of Sonny’s hair. He felt Sonny slide off his stool, slotting himself between Peter’s legs, pressing himself closer.

When they broke apart, both a little breathless, Peter felt doubt creep up his throat like bile, bitter and unwanted.

“Was that because you’re drunk?” Peter asked, the words flying from his mouth before he could stop them.

The elated smile slipped from Sonny’s face in an instant, and he took a step back before sitting back in his seat. “No.”

“Or because you think you owe me something?” Peter pushed, unable to stop himself.

“I mean, I do,” Sonny said quietly, fiddling with the nearest coaster. “But that’s not why either.”

Peter just stared at him, waiting for an explanation, though he was terrified he wouldn’t like the answer. He knew he was overreacting, knew he was blowing this way out of proportion, but he couldn’t seem to reign it in.

“Why do you think I go to you?” Sonny asked, voice soft, like he was speaking to a child.

“Because I let you in,” Peter muttered, unable to meet Sonny’s eyes.

“Okay, wow.” His head snapped up at Sonny’s tone, surprised by how hurt Sonny looked. “If that’s what you--”

“You come to me when you’re upset, and I’m there for you.” He didn’t know why he was pushing this, couldn’t for the life of him work out where this need to poke, to prod, to hurt, was coming from.

“I come to you when I’m happy, too.” Sonny’s voice cracked, and it felt like a punch to the gut, making him want to take back the entire conversation, to back to the kiss, and just enjoy the moment. “You’re the first person I tell my good news to. The first person I think about when I clock off. I drop by here more often than just the times we share a drink, hoping you’re here. Everything that happens, I want you to be a part of.”

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Deep down, he was sure he knew all of that, but having it said out loud was something else entirely. He’d never considered that all those moments they shared as friends could mean something more because the only time they ever crossed that invisible line between friends and something more was when Sonny was hurting, when he needed more than just a drink and a conversation.

“You come here looking for me?” Peter asked in a breath, feeling more than a little dazed by the revelation. Sonny just nodded in response. “Why didn’t you ever come to my place?”

Sonny shrugged. “‘Cause I don’t wanna bother you.”

“But you’re happy to bother me when you’re upset?” He didn’t mean to sound accusatory, didn’t want to make things worse, but he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.

“No.” Sonny offered a sad sort of smile. “I feel guilty every time.”

“You don’t have to--”

“I feel like a burden,” Sonny cut him off, looking away to tear at the coaster again. “And you deserve better than that. But in those moments...it’s like I can’t breathe, and I’m terrified to be alone, and you’re all I want.” Sonny looked up, eyes shining. “You. Your smile, your smell, the soft fabric of your clothes, of your sheets. It’s like...it’s like I can’t breathe until I have that.”

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat, reaching out to take Sonny’s hands, to still his nervous movements, in lieu of actual words. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say to that. He’d never realized quite how much Sonny felt for him, how much of a comfort he was. He’d simply thought Sonny had no one else he felt comfortable turning to.

“The first time I didn’t even know what I was doing,” Sonny continued, voice a little scratchy as he squeezed Peter's hands. “I hadn’t thought it through. I just...I didn’t trust myself to be alone. I couldn’t go to Amanda, not with Jesse. You’re the only other friend I have.”

“You don’t need to explain,” he whispered, running his thumb across Sonny’s knuckles. “I’m an ass, I’ve been--”

“I need you to understand,” Sonny pleaded, eyes wide and earnest, and Peter felt his heart swell and break simultaneously.

“I do understand.” He leaned in, kissing Sonny lightly, just a brush of lips more than anything else. But when Sonny grabbed hold of the front of his shirt, pulling him in closer, he deepened the kiss.

This time when they broke apart, all of the fear, the doubt, the hurt, was gone, replaced by sheer joy in the knowledge that Sonny felt the same as he did.

“Come home with me?” He asked, thumb brushing along Sonny’s lips before he let go to grab his belongings.

They left hand in hand, and for the first time in a long time, Peter thought that maybe it was going to be okay.


End file.
